On the other hand, you’re always being watched and evaluated by all kinds of people and friends, and you’re being ridiculed and …flamed by complete strangers.
—It is less than the doodle of an elementary school student.
—A story without any twists and turns or interesting plot.
Each word stabbed him in the heart and …he lost his motivation and stopped aiming to become a manga artist, which was his dream since he was a little boy.
Maybe the readers were just trying to be funny … just for the heck of it.
Maybe the bad ones are the people who unleashed abusive and mindless words online.
Still, I couldn’t let it go, so I punched those guys.
And got suspended.
Here’s a picture from that time.
“…I felt that this kid is growing up well, and I’m proud of Yuta for being able to be angry for the sake of other people.”
“Oh? Really? You were so mad at me.”
“Of course not. You were suspended from shcool, what a stupid thing to do… I had to bow down to the principal and the homeroom teacher …It was hard.”
“It’s …I’m sorry …for always bothering my mom…”
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.”
“No. No, that’s not it either, but …not just about that.”
I stopped my mouth.
“I won’t … ask what happened to Yuta, but he has nothing to apologize for.”
“Because I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Don’t say that, the memories of Yuta are your mother’s treasures, oh no, you look so sad, I got emotional.”
“Even if you’re depressed… you always look like this.”
“Yes, just like your father, you look unreliable and …also very dependable.
That’s it. I don’t know what kind of look you’re talking about.
I just don’t feel so bad.
■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■
The next day, I said goodbye to my parents at the door.
“I’ll go …then.”
“Take care.”
“Take care, Mom.”
“Don’t catch a cold…”
“Yeah, okay, Dad, and …watch out not to hurt you back.”
I opened the door and left the house.
Now …I’ll never see my parents againーーI’m not going to see them.
I just wish I could stay here forever.
There is a weak part of me that wants to be spoiled.
So this is the last time I’m going to see my parents.
Because I’m not Yuta Sasaki anymore.
“Yuta!”
I was about to walk out the front door when my dad stopped me.
“Thank you for being born as our child.”
Dad nodded vigorously at that.
Next to her, Mom smiled gently and said, “Yes.”
This is my memory.
Those aren’t the words of my real parents.
I know that.
But it’s an important memory —that proves I was alive as Yuta Sasaki.